Beyond the Outer Rim
by Graceful5301
Summary: Where's Revan gone? and what happens when OC Grace helps Exile and Atton to find her. A bit of adventure and romance. Story abandoned.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Okay, for once I was wrong. This has got to be the biggest mistake ever. We've been travelling for two months straight and no gravity wells to stop our course," fumed Allan Berrun, Exile, as he stood in the cockpit of the Hawk. "I'm starting to think -"

"That you're crazy? I said that at Yavin you remember," interrupted Atton pointing a finger at the Jedi from the comfort of his seat. "Now if we had my way we would have spent a little time on Nar Shaddaa with a few honeys to give us some good memories. Instead, no - we have to leave straight away. You know I don't work so well if my entertainment is lacking. No juma, no decent pazaak opponent -" he mock-glared at Allan "- and no women… Especially, no women."

"Atton, don't you think of anything else?"

Atton slouched further into the pilots' chair. "Not if I can help it," he muttered and began a pazaak game in his head. _Player draws 10, draws a5 equals 15, adds a +5 equals 20, player..._

A light started flashing on the console in front of him. Then the proximity alarm sounded as the ship felt the pull of a gravity-well and fell out of hyperspace. Atton grabbed for the controls as the Hawk headed for the Space Station dominating the view.

"It seems we have arrived," remarked Allan with a sigh of relief as he looked through the windscreen.

"Well, thank the Force," exclaimed Atton. "I was starting to get real bored with the same old routine."

Slowly orbiting a dying star in the middle of nowhere, the Station looked to have seen better days. It was similar to an old design rarely seen in the Republic now - a central rod housing stabilisers and a deepspace communication/survailance array, surrounded by two adjoining rings holding everything else including internal and external docking ports, and lit up like a wroshyr tree at Festival Time. At one of the external ports sat an olive and grey, streamlined but worn Heavy Freighter. Painted down the side of the ship in light blue were curling characters in some alien script Allan had not seen before.

"So, where are we anyway? What's the readout say this place is?" asked the scoundrel.

Allan sat down in the co-pilot seat and looked down at the computer screen. "Its ID beacon names it Gate-Way. Looks innocuous enough but I think I will not look the part of a Jedi, just in case." Allan touched his robes and lightsaber, then got up to leave. "Hail them and take us in."

* * *

Grace stood in the shadow of a cargo container just inside the Dock area, letting her mind wander for a few seconds as she adjusted the face-visor of her disguise. _Should be safe for a couple of days. I'm off the main commercial lanes at least. Can't stay long. Pity… Could do with a rest,_ the Assassin thought. She shook her head as she focused back on the activity leading from inside the Docks to the Promenade - merchants, mercs, some locals and the ever-present Security details. She hoisted her backpack and stepped out of the nook she had been lurking in for the past hour. Walking slowly as if tired Grace listened with her ears and mind, filtering sounds and emotions, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Something that might suggest this Deepspace Waystation was not a safe refuge for her. Anything that would make her turn around and return to the ship that had dropped her off barely an hour ago.

_Lets see what we've got then…- Jorda thinks he's so smart cornering the market…- Humph! Merchants…- got me an itch I need to scratch…- Eew. Crass…- make repairs to the sublight…- Nothing. I might be able…- draws a 1 equals 4, draws a 7 equals 11, draws…- What? That's not normal. Where?…- hate Pazaak. How can he expect me to do this? Wonder if there's any record of her being here?…- Who?_

A chill crawled up Grace's spine as her head swiveled to focus on the two minds not broadcasting the usual mindchatter. Her walk never faltered as doubt and fear tugged at her mind at the possiblity she had been found. Walking a few paces ahead to her right she located two humans moving towards the Promenade. The taller of the two barely hesitated as they stepped into the main thoroughfare and his focus lit on the Cantina sign further down the way. He turned and smiled in satisfaction, gesturing for the other to follow as he walked on. The other halted to look around and Grace moved past to find a place to scrutinise the men without being obvious.

_Maybe it's just coincidence… Yeah, Grace, you know there are no such things as coincidences when it comes to the Force…Who are they then if they're not here for me?_

Grace moved to the other side of the thoroughfare and slipped into a handy shadow beside a strut arching over the ceiling and focused on fading from peoples sight - _Nothing to see here…move along…_ - then looked over at the neon-outlined entrance to the Cantina. The taller man held her attention first. He of the pazaak game. Dark haired and a little older than the other, he wore a ribbed jacket that set off his shoulders well. Her eyes followed it down. _Nice ass,_ she thought with a little guilty appreciation before looking over the rest of him. He wore both blaster and vibroblade with the ease of regular use. And he moved with an unfeigned assurance, as if he had no care in the galaxy but the galaxy ought to take a care around him. Grace sucked in a quiet breath. _Dangerous. Know that type of swagger,_ she thought. The man reminded Grace of some old aquantences of hers, yet he was also obviously and openly friendly with the other man, while her old company always seemed more guarded. The shorter by a couple of inches had sandy hair. Nothing to give a second glance if it weren't for the way he moved - smooth, even, balanced. _Like a Jedi,_ Grace realised. She looked at the mans overalls and belt where a vibroblade and blaster sat. _No lightsaber? Incognito? Jedi don't hide,_ she thought clearly to herself. The target of her thoughts stopped again to look around, a thoughtful expression on his face. Grace began thinking random thoughts and focused on fading further into the scenery. She returned to a quieter scrutiny as the man turned to speak to the tall one engrossed in an outside view of the Cantina entertainment.

* * *

"Atton? I think we might have an admirer," Allan murmured as he turned towards the other man.

"Hm? You sure?" Atton dragged his attention from the Cantina and flicked a nonchalant look around.

"I can't pin it down but there was definitely someone focused on us for more than a few seconds."

"Well, can't be helped and if its all the same to you I'd rather be inside having a drink." Atton focused back on the entrance as he hooked a thumb on his belt. "Let's give whoever it is a chance to show themselves." And suiting action to word he stepped inside.

Allan sighed and followed his wayward companion. Inside, his ears were assaulted by a loud conversation in the foreground and music from his right. He stopped a few feet in to look around in the garish yellow lighting. Worn seating covered the main floor and a group of mercenaries covered the seats nearby, their loud talk bordering on belligerence. Boredom, anger and frustration flowed off the group in equal quantity to the empty glasses scattered around them. To Allan's right was the ever-present stage where a couple of holographic twi'lek dancers moved to the beat of a holographic band. To his left was the bar where Atton was already tossing down his first drink and had another two waiting. Allan moved towards the bar giving the mercenaries a wide berth.

"I think we should keep a low profile Atton," he spoke to his friend as he joined him "That group in the middle is in one ugly mood. I can feel a fight coming."

"Sounds like home. Listen, I saw a Pazaak den off the back there," Atton pointed at the rear of the room "I'm thinking we could do with a little local currency, if you catch my drift."

Allan raised an eyebrow as he took in Atton's sugestion. "And our 'admirer'?" he asked.

Atton clapped him on the shoulder and pushed a drink into his hand. "That I leave to you. I'm not the Jedi here, remember. Shouldn't be more than a couple of hours before whoever it was decides to look in and see what we're doing." He straightened up from his lean on the bar. From the middle of the room came the sounds of glass breaking and chairs being shoved aside, voices raised in anger. "Well that was quick. Didn't think it would break out so soon."

"You knew?" Allan asked as he ducked a flying glass.

"Hey, I was more interested in a drink than them. I thought they had a ways to go. Guess I was wrong," Atton remarked as he grabbed his drink and moved further down the bar.

"I think we should -" Allan began as a large and burly man was shoved into him. He shoved back in sudden irritation, old habits from his exile over-riding his Jedi training for a few seconds before he could stop himself.

"Wha' th'?" the man slurred as he turned. A ham-sized fist connected with Allan's face as he droped his guard. He fell to the floor and looked up in time to see Atton step in and block the next punch, followed quickly by a fist in the mans face and a foot in the groin. Allan winced in sympathy, the irritation forgotten.

"Come on Exile. Can't have you lying down in a fight." Atton grabbed Allan and hauled him upright.

"Look out!"

Someone came to rescue the burly guy and swung at Attons face. "Too late," Allan remarked as Atton fell on his backside from the blow.

"This is not my usual kind of fun! Can't you just -?" Atton spat blood as he moved to kick his attackers kneecap. There was a loud crack and Atton rolled up to finish off the would-be rescuer.

"Low profile! Remember?"

"Oh, Ha ha. Very funny. Now lets move before the security shows."

"Did I mention too late?" inquired Allan as he pointed at the main door. Uniformed security guards poured into the room and wadded into the fight. One guard stood near the door looking around eagerly, searching for an easy target. Allan watched the guards in action. _A bit excessive,_ he thought. REalisation dawned as he saw the pain the near future held for him and Atton even if they stayed out of the fight. The guards weren't being selective is their enthusiasm to quell the brawlers and were lashing out at everyone. Allan looked at Atton then pointedly at the guard by the door as the man focused on them.

Atton sighed and took up a guard position. "I'm going to see the inside of a force-cage again aren't I?"

"Yes. I am afraid so."

* * *

Grace waited outside from her vantage point across the way as she watched the security guards descend on the Cantina. She smiled thinly at the thought of the Jedi having shown himself and caused the mayhem, and how the guards would back down in fear when they realised what they were up against, confirmation of her long held belief the Jedi preferred to make people cower in fear than aid others. In her years of association only one Jedi had shown her any difference in attitude. Grace waited some more as she saw the bruised and bloodied mercs being hauled away. Her eyes widened as she recognised the ribbed jacket and overalls on two of the people in custody. _Don't they know he's a Jedi?_ Grace openly starred as the last of the brawlers were taken away.

_Stupid! Stupid!_ Her mind warned. _You should have just gone back to the ship and Forced a berth off this place. No need to get interested in some crazed Jedi Master with a deathwish… and a cute bodyguard…_ She groaned quietly at the intrusion of her last thought and then considered her options. The Jedi did not seem to have anything to do with her specifically but, knowing what the Force was prone to do, if she stayed much longer he probably would. She pushed away from the wall and shoved all thought of the last half-hour aside. Grace strode back to the Docks and the ship docking-port she had recently come from. When she arrived, the docking-port looked suspiciously locked and empty. She spun around and walked back to the Dockmaster, a grey-haired human in brightly marked overalls, whos name badge identified him as Llewn.

"Your indulgence Master of Shipping, when did the Vall'an'ie leave dock?" she inquired, giving a small bow.

"What did you say? Hold on," grunted the Dockmaster. "Oi! Droid! Come here!" he shouted with more clarity. He eyed Grace as the droid approached, taking in the weapons, clothes and fullface visor she wore as a disguise.

"How may I be of service Dockmaster Llewn," warbled the C2 unit.

"Translate for this Ran'ie will you."

"Of course Dockmaster." The droid turned to Grace and bowed "Felicitous Greetings Ran, This unit is C2B4. How may this humble servant show service?"

Grace sighed silently at the though of having to construct a decent Ran'ie sentence. _Should have gone with another cover species…_ "Please convey my most sincere apologies for disturbing the Master of Shipping and enquire for this unworthy individual when the Vall'an'ie left his superior care." Grace bowed again.

"This one asks your indulgence Dockmaster Llewn and is enquiring as to the time the Vall'an'ie left the station," repeated C2B4.

"Ah, I'm sorry Ran'ie. Ship left us not ten minutes ago." Llewn shook his head in apparent sympathy. "If it's passage you're after then I'm sure another Ran'a ship will dock in the next few days." He glanced at the droid who turned to Grace to translate.

"This one thanks the Master of Shipping for his kindness," Grace interrupted smoothly. "One also begs you extend my deepest regrets at the news of the departure, yet greatest joy of hearing unsolicited the news of other ships of our line that will be held under the Master of Shippings most gracious care in the near future." She bowed deeper and held the bow. She heard the droid repeat her thanks and, glancing up as far as her visor would allow without showing she was looking, watched the Dockmaster pull a sour face and bow. Before the droid could give a farewell speech she stepped back and moved away. Grace gave silent thanks that she had had the foresight to chose a Ran'ie caste that could get away with being moderately abrupt.

She returned to the Promenade to consider what to do next as she traveled its length, glancing here and there into the shops, businesses and booths lining the walls. _I could always dump the disguise,_ she thought. _But then I'd be noticeable. I mean, how many people with white-blonde hair, dusky skin and deep violet eyes are there…_ Grace sighed again behind the mask. _Best to stay as I am, get some credits and haul off this place as soon as possible. Now that's sorted - how to get some credits? Mug someone?…_ She pulled a face and found she had walked a circuit of the ring and was in front of the now quiet Cantina. _Pazaak. I'm good at pazaak. Shouldn't take long…_

Stepping into the Cantina her first sight was the broken furniture and glass on the floor being swept up by a morose looking woman in a slaves collar. She looked further around and saw the entrance to the Pazaak den. Moving over to the long bar she caught the bartenders attention.

"Gracious greetings Keeper of the Distillery. Might this lowly one enquire as to the disturbance one saw but a short time ago?" Grace enquired.

"Bunch of mercs decided to flout the laws here. I got the Security in as soon as possible. Had a bit of trouble with a couple of others they were fighting though. Took Security longer than usual to subdue them. There will be no other disturbances like that one I can assure you." The bartender took in the Ran'ie clothes and hooded visor. "I have to say I do not see Ran'ie in here often. You do not drink, so…?"

"This one is a lowly Pazaak player and finds enjoyment in the thrill of the contest."

"Ah! Well. The den is through the back. Please enjoy your stay here." The barkeeper nodded a bow.

Grace returned the bow and moved towards the den as the bartender began barking at the slave to move faster.

* * *

At the Security Centre after being processed and moved to the cell-room Atton sat in his cell cataloguing his aches and pains. _Split lip, loose teeth, sore head, twisted shoulder, bruised kidneys, cracked ribs, good thing they missed the choobies but not through lack of trying, aching leg, assorted twinges from the stun batons, could have been worse…_

"If you were to think a little louder one might wonder if you were trying to say something without being obvious about it," said Allan from the cage opposite.

"I wasn't, and stay out of my head," Atton groused and began playing pazaak in his head.

"I could not help it Atton. I can feel your pain," Allan replied. "Since there is currently only us two here let me help." He drew on the Force and flexed his fingers as Atton felt the pain recede, his shoulder relax, and his ribs heal.

Atton probed the now firmly attached teeth with his tongue. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. I am sorry about all this," Allan waved his hand to indicate the grey walls of thier cells and the force-wall in front of each cell. "The beating, the cell. I did not think we would end up like this when we landed. Though I do feel there is something or someone here to see that will help us on our journey," Allan mused as he scratched absently at his jaw.

Atton huffed and dragged his hands through his hair. "Remind me again why I said yes to coming with you," he asked.

"I said I didn't know how to fly and you said -" Allan stopped as he looked at the doors.

"What now?"

The cell-room doors opened to reveal a man built like a short brick refresher - Security Captain Savar. "Gentlemen. I see you are the last here. I am surprised you have yet placed bail. From this I surmise you don't have adequate credits to your name," he said with amusement in his voice. "Not to worry. We have a fine tradition of working for our keep -" Atton scowled "- and I am sure the Cantina owner will be most willing to have some more helpers to pay for the damages. In the meantime I suggest you make good use of the time in our custody and think of ways you can shorten your sentences. Good-day." Savar turned and walked out.

"And I so wanted to work in a Cantina for a long time without pay," Atton drawled sarcastically.

"I think we should get some rest Atton. Who knows how much longer we will have to be here." remarked Allan as he settled into a meditative pose and closed his eyes.

As he leaned back against the wall Atton watched Allan through half-closed eyes. _Player draws a 2, draws a 6 equals 8, draws a 5..._ He began playing pazaak with himself to while away the time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A few hours later…

"You lying son of a Schutta!" Grace accused in Ran'ie accented Basic. _I should have mugged someone…_

"Now see here. There's no need to go calling people names –" responded her opponent.

She interrupted. "You called me a cheater. Why shouldn't this one call you a son of a schutta?" Grace snarled in Ran'ie.

Her last Pazaak opponent looked at her and pulling at his ear remarked, "Why is a Ran'ie being impolite? I thought your species were renown for your flowery language. Could it be you aren't what you say you are?" He smirked.

Grace started to respond with a long string of Ran'ie expletives but stopped when she felt a presence behind her. She glanced behind to see the bartender from the other room. _Should have realised he was signalling someone. Must be more tired than I realised…_ she thought.

"I'll have none of that language in my establishment if you please. I also do not tolerate cheaters here. If there's evidence you've cheated, your winnings are forfeit to the Cantina," he ended smugly. He looked over at the other man who Grace realised looked similiar in appearance to the bartender. A sudden suspiscion formed as she glanced between them. Her opponent reached over the table and made a show of lifting the top card on her deck and turning it over. He tapped the edge twice and the card face changed to a 2. _Bastard…_ Grace thought as she lunged for him over the table, going for his throat.

She stood quietly between two guards as the doors to the cell-room opened an hour later. She waited and listened with her mind, feeling out for advantages if she needed to leave custody in a hurry. Her senses skimmed over the people around her.

_Pretending to be Ran'ie… -white hair?… -get her alone in a… -equals 15, adds a +5 equals 20, player… _Too late she remembered the Jedi and his companion getting arrested earlier. She baulked as she was pushed forward. A second harder shove moved her into the room. The two occupants turned their attention on her. The same two she had regarded hours earlier. Blondie looked to have been disturbed from his meditating. The brunette regarded her with an undisguised interest, and something more she could not place before his face became closed and guarded.

"And 'ere is your room milady. Best in the house." The left-hand guard pushed her into an adjacent cell and swung her around. "We'll have t' take the jewellery though. Pity. Goes so well wi' your skin," he leered as he removed the restraints from her wrists, his fingers lingering.

"Touch not," ordered Grace as she glared at him. He pulled back at the obvious threat of violence lurking in her eyes.

"Hee hee. Watch it Vorn. It took three people to pull her off her opponent. I don't fancy your odds. Hehee."

"Shut it Deekins," snarled Vorn as he activated the front force-wall. "See you around Sugar." He swaggered out and Deekins followed behind.

There was silence for a few minutes as Grace settled in to wait out her time. Then the sound of movement from the next cell caused her eyes to flick quickly sideways.

"So his name is Vorn. If I get him on the end of a stun baton I'll give him something shocking to think about," remarked the tall, dark man on the other side of her cell.

"Atton, you should not hold on to a grudge like that. He was only doing his job. Be it a bit enthusiastically," returned the blonde from the opposite cell.

"Yeah? Well, I now have another couple of reasons to that don't include me," Atton replied.

Grace frowned in puzzlement over the comment as more time passed and the Jedi looked over at Grace with a thoughtful expression on his face. She gave him back a blank stare and a blank mind when she realised what he was doing.

He gave a polite smile. "Excuse me but my friend and I were wondering if we could ask a few questions."

"I don't think so… Master Jedi," Grace challenged. Daring him to refute the title she gave him.

"Oh, you know?" His face fell. "I thought I did a good job of hiding. Must be out of practice. Ah, well. Still I would like some answers if you don't mind." He looked at Grace hopefully as she scrambled for an answer in the shock of guessing rightly what he was.

"No. Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with your faction wars anymore. You can all rot as far as I'm concerned." she asserted before turning her back on him.

"No luck, huh?" queried Atton from the other side of her wall.

"It would appear not. And I thought she was the one to help us. Apparently I was wrong… Again."

Grace felt a chill run down her spine, unconnected with the men in the room with her. She stretched out her senses further, towards the Docks.

* * *

Allan looked over at Atton and shrugged. _Perhaps you can do better?…_ He lifted an eyebrow in query. Atton looked at the wall he was leaning his hand against and smiled slowly. Allan sighed silently at his friend. 

"Pardon the intrusion on your otherwise busy schedule your highness but -" he began before being cut off by a loud slamming from the cell-room doors. "What the frack was that?"

The woman started and turned to peer down the room. "Lock-down," she replied flatly after a few seconds. "Something's happened. Lock-down only happens when there's either been a major breech in the vacuum seals, a major loss of power, or an attack on the station. I don't…" she stopped and began again. "I don't think it's a loss of power. The force-walls would be out. Can't be a breech - no alarms." Allan had the distinct impression she was going to say something else but had changed her mind in part-sentence.

"An attack?" queried Allan.

"I… You tell me Jedi," she returned defensively.

"Give me a couple of minutes," Allan amiably remarked and settled again to focus outside.

* * *

"Are you always this uncivil to people you've just met?" inquired Atton as Allan zoned out, his curiosity piqued. 

"No. I've had a trying day. I apologise," came the answer from the next cell after a few seconds.

Atton smiled at the reply. "Well okay then. Now are you up for a little light interrogation since we don't seem to be getting out of here anytime soon?" he teased gently.

"All right then," smiled her voice. "But nothing personal. You ask personal stuff and I'll do something childish like sit in my cell and refuse to answer."

He smiled at the sound of her voice and looked back at the wall, imagining her standing opposite him. "All right. Maybe just one personal question? I mean, who are you? What's your name?"

"That's two. You can call me Grace." Atton waited expectantly. "Just Grace. You're not getting the rest. I don't know you either."

_Going to make me work for it, eh?…_ Atton thought. "Fair enough Grace. The name is Atton. Atton Rand. I'm that one's errand boy and pilot." Atton waved a finger at Allan even though Grace couldn't see it. "As for him. He's Allan Berrun, Jedi Master. But you already knew what he was. How did you anyway? Know, I mean."

"He walks like a Jedi. To someone who knows what to look for it's quite obvious. And only Masters are known to travel outside their factions sector. Or have an Assassin as company."

_What?…_ Attons' mouth flapped open as he heard her reply. "I'm not an assassin Sweetheart." he snapped as he took a step back in his cell.

"Well you're not a Guardian, that's for sure. You didn't have the military look about you." Grace remarked matter-of-factly.

Allan stirred and looked up. "Wait. You said Assassin with a capital A," rejoined Allan. "What did you mean?"

"You've got to be joking. You don't know the difference? Where are you from? The other side of the galaxy?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Atton muttered just loud enough to be heard as his anger died down quickly under his curiosity over what Grace meant.

* * *

Grace relaxed as she felt the anger die in the next cell and started to lecture. "A small letter 'a' assassin is a hired killer, a butcher, sometimes a bounty hunter or a highly paid lowlife. A capital 'A' Assassin is a highly trained bodyguard, spy, jack of all trades and a most efficient silent deterrent, bound to the service of a Master. A Masters right-hand man you might say." She stopped. "Was I wrong? Do you people have different names because from what I've seen he fits the title quite well except for… never mind," she finished as she realised she had given too much information again. 

"From what you've seen? You've barely… It was you I sensed outside the Cantina!" exclaimed Allan. "No! Don't answer that. Back to the important things such as why we are in lock-down. I could sense pain and something, or someone else coming from the Docks. On the plus side there's currently no-one in the detention centre near us."

"Allan, I have a bad feeling coming on," interrupted Atton.

"As do I. I believe it is time to leave. I think we may have found most of what we were looking for in this place anyway," Allan responded. He looked at Grace again. "We could do with some further help. You do not know me but I can assure you I have nothing to do with these faction wars you speak of. We are searching for a friend of mine who needs my help. Care to join us?"

Grace frowned in thought as she felt an urge to trust this Jedi. "Where to?" she questioned.

"Away at this point. After that we'll see."

"Get us out of here and I'll help you as best I can. Deal?"

"Deal."

"So, Oh Great General, how are we getting past the force-walls then? Some Jedi trick? Or do you happen to have a security tunneller on you that they didn't find." asked Atton with some wry amusement in his voice.

"Neither." Allan responded cheerfully. "But I do have a disguised comm unit on me. I'll just give T3 a call and get him to slice the system. It should not take long."

Grace nodded in appreciation of Allans' contingency plan. _Outside help is always good in a breakout…_ she silently agreed.

* * *

Pace, pace, and turn. Pace, pace, and turn. 

Atton walked back and forward in his cell, his senses jangling and his irritation building. "How long do we have to wait?" he demanded. "What's that tin can doing - taking a holiday?"

"Patience Atton," soothed Allan from the floor of his cell where he sat calmly. "He has to find a path past whatever has happened at the Docks, then access the mainframe. Try and think of something else before you wear a line in the floor. Close your eyes."

"I know. I know. I just don't like waiting is all," Atton exhaled loudly and stopped pacing. He closed his eyes.

"Breath." Allan's voice came from afar. "Imagine you are walking along the beach on Telos. The warmth from the sun overhead as it soaks into your skin. The color and texture of the sand underfoot. The sound of the waves as they roll and touch the shore. The taste of the salt spray in the wind and the feel as it blows through your hair. The smell of water, earth and air as you breathe deeply."

_This is not so bad…_ Atton smiled softly and felt himself relax as the irritation fell away. He opened his eyes to look at the man he now called a friend. "Nice one. Now next time give me an image from a Cantina on Nar Shaddaa. I recall some very nice views there… Very," he added suggestively.

Allan let out a quick chuckle and shook his head. His smile broadened as the force-walls flickered and faded. He jumped up and moved to scrutinize the main cell-room doors.

_Looks like the tin bucket came through again… _Atton thought as he started to follow, but paused at the edge of his cell as Grace appeared from hers. His eyes moved down and up as he took in her figure. _I could meditate on this view for a long time…_ he decided as he appreciated the sight. Slim but oh so curvy, set off by a dusky tan painted over toned muscles. All hiding behind boots, pants and a wrap-shirt. He dragged his eyes slowly to her face. Her short white-blond hair spread out to frame an oval face with cheekbones itching to be stroked. Soft full lips begging to be kissed. And a pair of the most bewitching violet eyes he had seen, currently also giving him the once-over. Atton grinned roguishly as her eye caught his and a hint of a blush flowed over her cheeks. _Interesting…_

"If you two have finished ogling one another," interrupted Allan's voice from the doorway.

Grace's blush deepened. _Very interesting…_ "We weren't 'ogling'," she responded quickly. "Just… sizing up the company." She lifted her chin and stepped past, moving towards the door.

Atton's eyes lowered to watch the sway of her hips. "I was definitely ogling," he murmured as he followed her.

* * *

The metal cell-room doors stood resolute in their refusal to open. Allan regarded them and spoke into the comm, "T3, why haven't the doors opened?" 

"Bee dede doot. Doo be de Dwooo. Beet be deee de dee!"

"Okay T3. Thank you for trying anyway."

He turned to face the other two in the room. The blush faded from Grace's face as she attempted to ignore Atton, while the scoundrel stood behind with a small smile on his face. "We have good news and bad news," Allan began. "What do you want to hear first?"

"Oh, the good news definitely," answered Atton.

"The good news is T3 has disabled the alarms and run a loop through the cameras so it looks like we are still here in our cells. The bad news is he can only open the electronic part of these doors," Allan waved a hand behind him. "There is still the mechanical part which will not budge due to the Lock-down."

"So we're stuck here? Great," groused Atton as he glared at the offending doors.

"It seems that way," murmured Allan in agreement.

"Not necessarily," Grace said as she looked back at Allan then down at her hands. "I haven't been completely honest with you - considering how short a time I've known you. But I did agree to help you get out of here to the best of my abilities." She trailed off as she looked up to see both men staring at her. "What? You expect me to spill my guts at the first words out of your mouths? I'm not that kind of person. But a deals a deal, and I want out even more than you do. That someone coming this way?… I really don't want to meet. I don't know how he got here so fast or how many he's brought." Grace frowned and bit her lower lip. "Maybe I wasn't as good at hiding as I thought I was. But I can feel him and he's none too particular about who he hurts to get to me." She stopped and eyed Atton warily as he stiffened and a scowl formed on his face.

Allan blinked in dawning realization. "I knew there was something off about you. You are a Force Adept, are you not?"

"Well…"

"You're a Jedi?" interrupted Atton.

"I have never considered myself to be a Jedi. I just know a thing or two and can do a thing or two. Do you want out or not?" Grace demanded. "Because very shortly there will any number of either security guards or other less savory individuals returning here." Grace turned to Allan. "I haven't done this in a few years but give me a few seconds."

_

* * *

_

_Stupid, stupid…_ Grace's mind chided her._ Hush, I need to concentrate… _She placed the palms of her hands against the well-worn doors and focused on the metal beneath them. She breathed deep and held it. A memory of a lesson learnt flowed through her mind._ Where are the bolts? There are the bolts. Can you sense anything else? No… Wait…Yes Master… It's a simple deadbolt system but with an alarm set to trigger if it opens early. Good… then focus…_ She breathed out pursed lips and drew another breath._ Fuse the alarm circuit… If you can't manipulate the mechanism to unlock the door then break the bolts… _The sound of metal groaned through the room, a tortured cry of metal under stress. Sweat trailed slowly down the side of her face as Grace deepened her perception of the metal in the doors.

**CRACK!**

The doors shot open. The floor reared up. Strong arms wrapped around her to stop her falling as her vision blurred and her legs gave way.

_

* * *

_

_Stupid, stupid…_ Atton's mind chanted._ Shut up…_ The sound of shifting metal breaking under great stress turned his head. He saw Grace half pressed against the doors, tension singing through her slim frame. He gaped as he saw shallow ripples flow through the metal from under her hands._ No way. She can't…_

**CRACK!**

The door shot open. Allan leapt forwards and caught Grace as her legs collapsed. Atton stepped forward unbidden as he watched Allan gently lower her to the ground, a look of concern on the Jedi's' face. Jealousy flared in Atton's chest as Allan continued to cradle her limp form.

Allan looked up. "Atton! Secure the room!" he ordered without his usual easy manner.

Atton blinked and looked up. He obeyed the voice used to command and which commanded his allegiance. Stepping past the doors he found himself in the processing area which he quickly searched as he made his way to the set of doors on the other side. A stun baton lying under a counter caught his attention and he scooped it up. He gave it an experimental swing to get the feel and charged it up. His senses twitched as if someone were coming. Old skills well used helped him to glide silently to the side of the door and wait. A small vicious smile slid across his mouth as the door opened as the guard Vorn walked in.

"Hey! What th-?" Vorn began as he saw the cell-room doors wide open and as Atton slipped behind him. Atton moved fast and brought the baton around in an underarm strike going for the least defended spot at the rear of the mans amour. Too slow to turn to see the danger Vorn could only gag as pain blossomed. Atton left him there as he moved to check the corridor. A turn in the passage hid his view. He stepped to the corner and looked. The first set of blast doors he saw were left open and showed the Property Lock-up counter. Further down the corridor another set of closed blast doors hid the room beyond. Again he moved swift and silently as a cat to spy more of the layout. Another bend and then the corridor opened into the Reception Room. A battered, U-shaped reception desk dominated the center of the room and four more guards in full amour stood near the exit with their attention focused outwards. _Didn't they hear the doors breaking? Must be some good soundproofing between the cells and here…_ Atton thought as he moved backwards slowly and glided back to the processing area. He regarded Vorn for a few seconds as the man rocked back and forth and, charging up the stun baton again, he pressed it against the base of the mans skull. The guard spasmed then lay still.

"You could have done that with your first strike. You did not need to hit him like that," Allan admonished as he stopped on the other side of the limp guard.

"Hey, what're you going to do? He tried doing it to me." Atton shrugged. "I did the right thing with the second one. I could have just kept poking him. I wanted to… but I didn't." Allan looked steadily at him and Atton looked away as guilt churned in his gut.

* * *

A Force-inspired insight occurred to Grace as she leaned against the counter and watched the interplay between the two men. Allan looked like he wanted to shake some sense of decency and fairness into Atton as Atton tried justifying his actions. _Master Berrun must see something more in Atton than Atton sees if he's trying to teach him how to be a nicer person… _Atton looked like he had been caught doing something really bad and he knew it too. _And Atton wants Master Berrun to respect him but he can't help acting like a jerk. He's trying but not entirely succeeding against his nature… _Atton was the first to look away._ Do I really want to get involved with these people? Both are more and less than what they pretend… So are you Grace and you made a deal… I know… Perhaps there is more to a lot of things. Perhaps you were given a second chance for a reason. Just because you chose exile don't mean you have to stay an exile. Perhaps you're here to help in other ways than just getting off this station. Maybe you need to stop running all the time. Maybe you should stay with them and help both gain whatever it is they need… Maybe. I'll think about it…_

Grace frowned as she moved slowly past the counter pondering her thoughts and she looked up in time to see chagrin flicker across Atton's face as he looked into hers. He turned his head away as she opened her mouth to speak. Her jaw snapped shut in sudden irritation and instead she walked past to peer down the corridor. She reached out with her senses. _Four guards. Easy… But someone else is almost here already…_ she thought as another shiver ran down her spine.

"We need to get our weapons from Lock-up. And we need to move fast," responded Allan as if he could hear her. "Think you can open the lockers there?"

"No problem. It'll be a lot easier than a cell-room door." Grace reached over and touched Atton on the arm. He looked back in surprise. "Care to join me?"

"Never thought you'd ask. I mean, it's not like I have anything better to do than stay and enjoy the fine hospitality of this spacestation," Atton replied with a crooked smile.

The three escapees moved swiftly down the corridor.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Atton watched the corridor and glanced occasionally at Grace as she bypassed the door and slipped through the small opening over the scratched Lock-up counter to drop inside. He admired the way she flexed as she stood up to survey the lockers. The faint sound of lockers opening followed as she moved from one to another. Atton returned his attention back towards the Reception Room as a small tight knot formed in his gut. _Not good. Not good at all… _

"Here," Grace murmured as she shoved their equipment through the hole into the mens waiting hands and then pulled herself halfway through. "Stuck," she grumbled as her old denim jacket she had put on caught on the frame and held her back. Atton moved in front of the counter and grabbed Grace under the elbows and pulled. She slid out the rest of the way and collapsed into his chest with a small gasp as Atton held her warm weight and her feet touched the floor. Grace leaned into him for a second as she regained her feet before she moved away, leaving his arms empty. Atton watched her a second longer than necessary then swung his head and turned around to look further for Allan, his weapons dangling from his hand.

"Over here," Allan whispered quietly from beside the set of closed doors.

Atton slung his belt around his hips as he moved to join Allan and automatically adjusted the weight of his weapons. His hand dropped to his blaster to feel the familiar contours of the grip.

Allan placed a finger to his lips and then he pointed to the bend in the scuff-marked corridor. Atton nodded and held up four fingers. He drew his blaster and started to move as a hand caught his elbow to swing him around to face Grace who smiled as she held up two Stealth belts taken from Lock-up. She passed one to Atton and the other to Allan who raised an eyebrow in query. Grace replied with a smug smile and indicated for him to put the belt on. As her gaze shifted down the corridor she then pointed at Atton and motioned to him to move to the left. She pointed to herself and indicated a move to the right. Then pointed at Allan and pointed at the floor. Allan's face tightened and he shook his head. Grace looked at him for a second before lifting a fist, shaking it three times and flicking two fingers out. Atton rolled his eyes at the thought of the outcome. _Never play Rock, Pad, Blade with a Jedi. They cheat…_ A twitch of a grin flew across his mouth as Allan held out a fist and both the Jedi and the woman went through the motions.

_

* * *

_

_Never play Rock, Paper, Scissors with a Jedi. They cheat…_ thought Grace a bit sourly as she moved to the corner. She heard the faint hum as the two Stealth belts were activated and felt a light brush as one of the men moved past. Closing her eyes she focused on Force-fading and disappeared from view. She opened her eyes and spread her senses trying to find where Atton and Allan had moved. Though faint, she could just feel Atton already moving down the left side of the room. Allan had moved to the right. She moved to the doorway to look into the room. The four guard's attention was now firmly fixed on something on a monitor by the exit. Fear curled off them like steam adding to the sense of growing unease each felt. A chill flew down her spine as she also felt another familiar, darker presence barely ten feet away from the doors._ Time to move… _She moved swiftly and silently, her Ran'ie sword still in its lacquered scabbard. She vaulted onto the right end of the u-shaped, battered wooden desk dominating the room and flowed along its surface. Her hand moved to the hilt as she reached the bottom end and glanced at the monitor on the wall that held the guard's attention. She had her first view outside the exit. A figure strode up as one of the guards began unlocking the door._ They shouldn't be letting him in! Got to stop them now!…_Still hidden by the Force and using her momentum Grace leapt off the desk and drew her sword with one fluid motion bringing the blade over in an arcing angle to cut at the first guards neck as she appeared in mid air. She fell to a knee as she brought it around and forwards for a sideways strike at her next opponent's legs. Blaster fire hit another of the guards as Atton expertly sniped from the middle of the left-side wall. Allan surprised the last guard as he appeared suddenly from the cover of his Stealth belt to strike hard and deadly. Blood flowed and pooled on the floor leaving the sudden smell of iron in the air. Within two seconds only the two injured guards remained as the doors finished unlocking and opened.

Grace looked up from her kneeling position and into the face of a man dressed in tailored yet loose charcoal and black layered clothes that covered him from boot to hood. A lightsaber sat at his waist beside a wicked, curved knife held on a wide belt. Under the hood two blood-shot eyes glared back at her in a face she had once thought handsome and was now pallid, marred by a livid scar bisecting his face from cheek to cheek. The Assassin glared back, the guards forgotten, as she brought her sword up and shifted into a defensive stance. Standing before her was an old ally she had not seen in over three years. Not since she had chosen to defy her orders and, instead of killing, had protected a lone Jedi who had shown her another way to see the galaxy, another way to see herself. Three years since she had ran and hid from those who had taken her in from her exile and trained her in the ways of the Force. Three years since she had left a room littered with corpses and one living Jedi. Three years since she had attacked the other members of her strike team and left them for dead. _Kelbourne! I didn't kill all of them…_

"Traitor!" he snarled as he drew his lightsaber from his belt.

_

* * *

_

_Traitor?…_ Allan shook his head in disbelief. As the lightsaber ignited with a hiss he stepped forward with his vibrosword ready but loose in his hands.

"No, Master Berrun. This one is mine," Grace stated as she came up from her knee. Her eyes never left off watching as she shifted into a more aggressive pose. The Dark Jedi stepped backwards, back onto the Promenade. Grace followed smoothly, taking up a position where she had room to move. Both faced off against each other and ignored the people around.

Allan's eyes moved to take in the scenery behind the two protagonists. Scattered along the way were clumps of people outside booths and stores, staring at the scene outside the Security Centre. Fear, awe, distaste, hate flowed from all directions. Allan's eyes moved to his right and he found himself looking at Captain Savar and a group of Security guards. Each man looked eager to shoot but they held back to watch. The Captain looked daggers at Allan before looking back at the Dark Jedi.

"Jedi Kelbourne?…" he asked cautiously.

"So Kelbourne, are you going to have them shoot us?" inquired Grace in a clear, mocking voice. "Or do you want to finish this in a proper duel - just you and me and our two blades?"

"I am not afraid of you. There may have been a time when you could beat me but I have grown strong in the Force and you… " Kelbourne sneered. "You are nothing now. A waste of good genetics. A mere shadow of what you could have been… Of what you were."

"I am more than you will ever know Kelbourne. Not wasted - just waiting," Grace returned more calmly. "Kill me if you can. If I kill you then we are leaving peacefully. No hassles. No blaster bolts in the back. Understand Captain?"

Savar sneered back in confidence and obvious disagreement.

"Master Berrun?" inquired Grace as her eyes never left her opponents. "Perhaps you would like to… persuade… the Captain to agreeing to the deal?"

"Master?…" Savar swallowed in sudden discomfort. He looked back at Allan with new-found fear and dismay. "Master Jedi. You did not say… Persuasion will not be necessary. You have my word nothing will be done to you or yours while you are on my Station… If the Assassin wins this duel." He finished and motioned for the Security guards to stand down.

"Allan? Did you know this was going to happen? Did you know what she was?" asked a quiet but tense voice of Atton from behind Allan.

"No," murmured Allan out the side of his mouth. "But for some reason I cannot place I trust Grace to get us out of this mess," he added. "I feel there is more to her than what we have heard here. Give her a chance to tell her own story." Allan returned part of his attention to the surrounding people, the rest he put to the question of the person that was Grace. _She is a Force Adept but she said she is not a Jedi. But she does not feel like Sith. There is something else about her I cannot put my finger on. She is remarkably honest when she needs to be but holds a lot of secrets. I cannot help trusting her in some small part. She seems to inspire trust almost as if she creates bonds like I do. Perhaps the Force has a good reason for crossing our paths like this…_ Thoughts churned through his mind as the duel unfolded.

* * *

Oblivious to the exchange happening by the doors Grace and Kelbourne began manoeuvring for an advantage as they faced off against one another. Grace studied her opponent's movements for several seconds, seeing no opening to strike.She breathed calmly, drawing on the Force to help guide her hands as she stepped sideways and brought her sword to a low guard position. Kelbourne followed her movements but brought his 'saber into a higher stance. The crimson light from his lightsaber wavered as he tensed to strike. Grace lunged suddenly forward, a blur of movement as she saw her opening. Kelbourne was fast, but not fast enough to stop twenty-six inches of high quality Ran'ie made blade roll and slip under his defences and pierce him up through the heart. He fell to his knees as his lightsaber fell from numb hands. Grace pulled out her sword and slashed sideways to sever his head. She regarded the people around her as she flicked the blood off the sword and returned it to its scabbard. She stepped with silent menace towards Savar. 

"There is no need for more violence Assassin," he began. Grace stopped. "I gave my word nothing would happen to the Jedi and his own." Savar smirked slowly. "But I never said anything about you leaving." Savar moved to aim his blaster at Grace.

The smirk fell off his face as the blade of a vibrodagger was pressed gently but firmly against his throat from behind. Grace looked past Savar. Atton smiled without humour and quietly asked the man, "So tell me. Are you feeling lucky today? Or do you want to see how much violence I can do? Hmh?" He tightened the angle of the blade. Savar moved onto tiptoes to avoid the blade cutting him.

Allan watched the Captains face and motioned at both Atton and Grace. "He is with me and so is she. Do you refute my claim? No? Then we all will go. Let him go. We are leaving now," Allan said as he turned away from the scene in front to move towards the Docks. He didn't look back as he called Savar's bluff.

Grace went back to Kelbourne's corpse, picked up his lightsaber and put it on her belt. A twitch of a satisfied smile slid across her mouth as she turned slowly and followed Allan.

Atton removed the blade and stepped away to follow along. He looked at the other guards who lowered what weapons they had lifted and felt a small spike of satisfaction as none dared to look him fully in the eye. Atton moved without hurry, his stride long but easy as if he were taking a stroll through a park, as if thinking of another time when he used to receive that sort of fear.

* * *

Allan stood at the entrance to the Docks and waited silently for his companions. As he looked around he noted the shadows and the narrow lanes between the cargo containers._ A good place for an ambush…_ He spread his senses outwards and felt the residue of pain lingering on the air and several hidden observers. He sighed quietly and readied for another fight. 

"They won't attack us. News travels fast. Unlike the good Captain, these people will hold to the spirit of the deal," Grace spoke as she drew level. "Gives them more of a thrill for the hunt if it continues," she added dryly.

"And why are these people hunting you? What of Kelbourne? What was he to you?" inquired Allan as Atton reached them.

"For what you've just been through I know you deserve a long explanation. I'll give it to you when we're out of here."

"You had better," Atton growled as he overheard Grace. "I don't enjoy having a bunch of guns at my back and wondering when the people holding them are going to shoot me."

"They wouldn't have. Don't deny you didn't feel it too."

"Listen, what I feel or don't feel is none of your concern," Atton spat out. "Let's just get to the Hawk and get out of here. We'll see whether your explanation will be any good when we hear it." Atton moved ahead down the aisle between two containers.

"Okay. Before we go there are a couple of things that need to be done," Grace said as she glanced at Allan as they started walking.

"Such as?" Allan maneuvered past a barrel in the way.

"For one, you need navigation charts. Have your little friend on the comm download what he can and while he's at it he can deal with problem number two. That being the fact that the Captain said they wouldn't do anything while you're on the station. Once we leave we're fair game. If I were who I once was I would have recommended we destroy the spacestation as we left." She paused as she shook her head. "But as I'm not - I recommend a virus in the mainframe to corrupt any information about us and a block on the comm systems to hold off them and delay them passing information about us to other parties. I don't particularly want to come out of hyperspace into a waiting trap."

Atton spun around, his mouth working as he tried to find a hole in her logic. He glared at Grace instead and turned back. "Let's go," he ground out as he strode faster ahead.

Grace watched the scoundrels retreating back. Allan sensed a deep sadness before she hid behind her own mental walls.

"Do not give up yet," Allan gently encouraged her. "I do not think he is angry at you for what has happened. He is angry because he is confused over what he feels and he does not like to be confused. He has not had to think deeply about something like this in a long time."

"Something like what?" Grace mumbled.

Allan glanced sideways at Grace. "You are starting to remind him of what his old life was like. And I do not believe he truly came to terms with his old life in our travels together. Perhaps that is why he has not asked me to train him in the ways of the Force. Because he thinks he is not worthy enough, not good enough. It is something he will have to come to terms with in his own time. Perhaps he needs a reminder that others can change also." Allan smiled sadly and sighed. He straightened his shoulders and looked around. "But enough of these maudlin thoughts. We need to keep our focus on the now. Let us leave this place and let the Force guide us on our journey."

* * *

Atton made a beeline from the cargo area to the hangers as his thoughts churned over. He saw the small astromech T3-M4 waiting by a terminal along one wall. 

"Beed de dee do dee. Dobe de bebede."

"Don't tell me. Do I look like I know everything? Go talk to Allan, you tin can," barked Atton as he stormed past the droid. He continued towards the hanger where the Ebon Hawk was sitting.

"Dwooo."

Atton chose to ignore the droid's comment as he stepped onto the hanger floor and moved to the ramp of the Hawk. He looked back to see Allan talking with T3 at the entrance to the hanger while Grace stood by the Jedi's shoulder. Atton felt a sudden urge to just go back to her, tell her it wasn't her fault he was acting this way, tell her he didn't care what she was before. But that would have been a lie. He did care what she had been before. He wanted to know what made her change to the person she was now. The person who moved with such grace and skill as she fought, who joked with him in the cells but blushed when he showed an interest in her. The woman he wanted with a strong intensity but didn't trust so quickly as Allan seemed to. The anger faded, leaving him a sour taste in his mouth, and he dragged his hands through his hair in frustration. _She probably doesn't want to talk to you again after the way you acted anyway. Best to forget any notions you had and just stick to piloting, playing pazaak and cracking wise at bad times…_ He turned back and walked up the ramp and headed for the cockpit.

* * *

As Grace walked with Allan to the Ebon Hawk she got her first view of her transport. The Ebon Hawk was a medium sized freighter, built around a saucer main section with the cockpit jutting out from the central edge and additional blocky wings facing forwards. A boarding ramp sat open between the left wing and the cockpit. Two engines thrust out the back end. What color that was left was a peeling white and red. Obvious weld marks ran across its plating like the many scars on a war veteran, some old, some new. 

"You flew in that?" she asked in wry amusement.

"Oh yes. You should have seen her the last time Atton crashed the Hawk," Allan smiled with the memory. "There was nowhere to sleep except the main hold because he broke the pressure seals on both dormitories. It took a while to return to Citadel Station to get her repaired. She may look a little battered but she is fast, and there are a lot of good memories on board."

"It's certainly distinctive."

"Yes. She is. Come on in. T3 will be with us shortly and I should get Atton to start pre-flight. Have a look around and put your pack in the starboard dormitory. That is the one just to your left as you enter. I'll shift out and move in with Atton when there is more time."

Grace followed up the ramp and headed left to find the dormitory was contained in one of the wings of the ship. Three bunks lay against the outside wall. She dropped her pack on one of the bunks and left to explore the rest of the ship as the sound of the engines started up. She wandered through the garage and out past the engine room on her left, noted the medical bay and secondary airlock on her right, and continued past the storage room until she found herself at a T-intersection. To the left was the port dormitory and to the right was the main hold. She paused to look left but decided Atton might not approve of her snooping and instead walked into the main room.

"Question: Who are you and what are you doing on this ship?"

Grace stared at the rusty red droid with the large carbine blaster pointed in her direction. The droid managed to radiate a certain menacing eagerness around itself.

"My name is Grace and I was invited. I'm helping Master Berrun. Who are you?"

"Proud Statement: I am HK-47, an advanced model assassin droid. My primary function is to terminate any meatbag my Master requires removed. Disapproving Addendum: But he has shown no inclination to using my functions correctly. Master Berrun has me only shoot meatbags in self-defense." The droid shook its head and sighed as it lowered the carbine.

"Right. Good. I'll just be going now," Grace said carefully and, leaving the droid alone, she walked the short distance to the cockpit. Allan stood by the navigation computer near the door while Atton sat in the pilot's seat. Allan turned to look at her for a second before returning his attention to the computer. Atton chose not to look her way as he powered up the ship, though she knew he was aware of her presence.

"That is one creepy droid you have. I though you weren't the sort to have an assassin droid."

"I inherited him from the previous owner of the Hawk. Revan made him and she had a weird sense of humor. I am hoping something will jog his memory core as we travel."

"And why are you traveling?"

"We are searching for Revan. What happens when we find her is another story," Allan shrugged.

"You know how I hate to interrupt these moments but are we going now?" Atton interrupted. "I mean to say, the ship's ready to leave. Just say the word."

"As soon as T3 boards we can leave. As a matter of fact, I will wait at the ramp for him. He has already managed to transmit a large amount of co-ordinates to the navigation computer." Allan turned to Grace. "Grace, perhaps you would like to pick a place for us to go? Maybe someplace where we could gather more information without the trouble we had here. Excuse me." Allan looked at the back of Atton's head, almost willing the man to come to his senses and talk to Grace, then he exited the cockpit.

The sound of the idling engines filled the silence in the cockpit. Grace looked at the chart showing on the navi-comp and picked three likely places to go. She turned back to the room and regarded Atton before slipping into the co-pilots seat. The silence stretched out.

"Um," began Atton. Grace looked past the partition to find Atton looking over at her. "Listen. Thing is, we've already had to deal with someone who turned around and shafted us royally. I don't want Allan to go through that again. I don't want to go through that again. And, well…" He scratched behind an ear.

"You mean you don't trust me," Grace responded quietly.

"No." Atton continued to look at her and frowned. "What I mean is… Look. I don't apologize very often. I'm not good at it. I'm trying to here. I meant I don't think you would deliberately do that to us. Put us in the poodoo, you know?"

Grace thought over what was just said. "I think I understood that. It's definitely a different way of apologizing," she teased with a smile on her face.

"Look. Are you accepting it or not? Because it's the best you'll get from me," Atton responded with a matching smile.

"Oh, I think I could," Grace returned companionably. "I think the ramps up." She pointed at a light on the controls.

"Okay. Lets go then."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Ebon Hawk backed out the hanger bay, turned and flew away from the Spacestation. No laser fire leapt out towards the Hawk. No ships turned to pursue.

Allan appeared at the doorway. "Anything happening?" he inquired.

"Since you mention it - No. Why aren't they doing anything?" replied Atton tersely.

"It would appear the station has suffered a major computer malfunction that has spread to the connecting ships. The mainframe seemed to think there was a major breech in the seals just as we left and it locked all the doors," Allan remarked. "No-one can get in or out. It also appears someone managed to corrupt the Stations data core and shut down a lot of useful but not vital systems, leaving them with no communications and no weapons. But we did leave them their shields just in case. The ships currently docked seem to have suffered a similar fate." He sighed with mock sadness.

"How long will it take them to fix the damage?" Grace asked with a serious look.

"A few days. No more. T3 could not be more specific as he was unsure what their repair capabilities were like. Where are we going?"

"A place where it will be difficult to find us," Grace smiled. "There's a lot of space traffic in and out so it should be easier to get lost, figuratively speaking."

"And the name of this place?"

"Nexus. It's a planet called Nexus. It's what it describes. A point of connection, a crossroads for a lot of traffic, both in space and data-wise. It's no smugglers paradise but it is neutral space when it comes to the Jedi factions on this side of the galaxy."

"Plot us a course then," ordered Allan.

Grace moved to the navi-comp and pressed in the co-ordinates as Atton engaged the hyperdrive. The stars streaked past.

* * *

Grace sat waiting. When the first question came, it caught her by surprise. 

"What do you want to drink? Cafa? Chai?" asked Allan. He looked at the surprised expression on his companions faces. "I think it is a good idea. I get the feeling we may be here for a while, and I do not know about you but I have not had a decent drink in six hours." He raised an eyebrow.

"Chai please. White, no sugar." responded Grace with a thankful smile.

"You know me. Cafa. Strong and sweet." offered Atton.

Allan smiled and moved away to collect the drinks.

"So. Um. What put you in your cell? I mean, you did something to deserve it," Atton asked as they waited. "Not just an urge to find a couple of good looking guys to run away with," he added as he glanced out of the corner of his eye.

Grace looked out at the blueness of hyperspace. "I was in disguise and bet the cantina owners brother at pazaak who then accused me of cheating and put a skifter in my deck. I got a little carried away and tried throttling him. So -" she ticked off her fingers "- cheating, wilful damage of property, false declaration of name and species, and attempted murder. What did they put down for you after the bar fight?"

"Resisting arrest, wilful damage of property, harming with intent, and inciting a riot though I didn't incite and I saw no riot," Atton ticked off his fingers. He looked at Grace's fingers then his own. "Looks like it's a draw." He looked around as Allan stepped back in with three mugs in his hands.

Allan handed out the drinks and sat down in one of the spare seats. "Now Grace, you were going to give a good explanation about yourself."

Grace breathed in the smell of her chai and took a small sip. She looked up and said, "I need to start at the beginning. A background before me. Before I was taught the Force. Before I met Kelbourne. Before a lot of things. So here goes…"

"Once upon a time not so long ago, about fifty years ago, on the planet of Nexus lived a thief. And not just an ordinary thief. She was the best - No-one could catch her. She became a legend in her own lifetime, an urban myth to scare the pants off anyone with money, jewels, artwork. She would steal anything if there were enough challenge in the execution of the job.

Anyway, Nexus was also a place where the Darkness could not go unless they were summoned. Dark as in evil incarnate, Sith'arri, demons, whatever you want to call them. One was summoned and set free on that world. This thief chose to sacrifice herself in order to kill it, to save the life of the one she loved. Thirty years later it was decided by some people to recreate the thief, to clone her, to recreate the strongest Force Adept they had ever known. But things never go according to plan when the Force is involved. They made as faithful a reproduction as they could. But they forgot that a body needs a motivating force, a soul, so all they ended up with after two years was a waste of money, resources and one vegetable that had been accelerated to about six years of age." Grace snorted indelicately.

"The Force is not impersonal. It provided a soul to inhabit the body… And I woke up in a nutrient tank. I eventually escaped after they found out I wasn't what they wanted me to be and found my way to the thief's… family, I suppose you could call them. I worked hard for them to accept me and in the end some of them did. But I couldn't help feeling left out by the ones that mattered the most and so, eventually, I chose a self-imposed exile in an effort to find out who I really was. I travelled far away for a few years and met my second 'family' who continued to train me in the ways of the Force - in the ways of the Assassin. Kelbourne was one of my team," Grace shrugged. "He was just a small-time assassin with a smattering of Force sensitivity then. I was good at my job, but I wouldn't say I was the best. I didn't have that extra something… that ability to imerse myself in the Dark-side like others could. To me it was just a job. Kill quickly, silently, precisely. I wasn't into collateral damage if it wasn't necessary. Most thought I was cold, impersonal. I kept everyone at arms length but I still trusted them enough that I stayed."

Grace sipped at her chai as she looked at the other two. Allan nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Atton stared at her, his drink forgotten in his hand. "But you're not like that now. What happened? Did you meet someone who…?" he tailed off with dawning realisation in his eyes.

"Yes, I met someone. Three years ago three others and myself were given the task of removing a thorn in the side of a particular Jedi. This thorn was another Jedi who was very difficult to surprise. She had contingency plans for seemingly everything. But one day I got her alone in a room, or perhaps she got me alone," Grace frowned in thought. "Anyway, she convinced me there was more to life than an empty heart and she said there was something I had to do and I would need to change to do it. She turned me. And when the others of my team arrived she offered no resistance when they moved in to kill her."

"She was willing to sacrifice herself," remarked Allan quietly. "She took a calculated risk to prove a point."

"I didn't want her to die. I felt there was more for her to do also. I killed for her. I attacked my team and left them for dead. I left Kelbourne for dead. I left her standing by their bodies and left that part of my life and ran. I hid myself away behind disguises as I traveled. And as I traveled I began to feel again. I made a few friends and gave a helping hand here and there. But whenever someone showed any interest in my past I would move on, leave. And eventually I ended up here telling you my life story," Grace finished and looked at her empty mug. The hum of the hyperdrive sounded in the silence.

"Not so long ago I heard a very similar story but with a slightly different outcome," Allan spoke gently as he looked at Grace, then Atton. "I could not help but forgive Atton for what he had done. I accept him for what he now is…" Allan moved off his seat and placed a hand on Graces shoulder. "And I cannot help but accept you also. Please stay with us. Help us."

Grace looked into Allan's eyes and only saw trust and acceptance. She smiled shyly and nodded her head in response. Her eyes drifted to Atton who sat quietly in thought, his hazel eyes focused on her. A knot slowly curled in her stomach as the silence stretched out.

"Sure. Why not? Not like I have much say in the matter anyway but, yeah, welcome to the crew," Atton smiled.

* * *

The Ebon Hawk continued its journey through hyperspace towards the planet of Nexus. In the garage, Allan swung the green blade of his lightsaber in slow arcs. Parry, feint, attack, parry, lunge. His body in perfect balance as he moved. Attack, parry, stutter. His concentration broke as he heard the hum of a second lightsaber being lit behind him. He tensed and turned; defending himself from a blow that failed to arrive. Red light lit Grace's face as she brought the 'saber up in a jaunty salute that matched the smile on her face. 

"A bit jumpy for a Jedi, aren't you?"

Allan relaxed slightly as Grace moved further into the garage. "I did not sense you there. You are almost as good as Atton at hiding your presence when you want to." He eyed the red blade. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you could do with a real opponent. I've always found it more satisfying when there's another blade to hit," Grace shrugged as she swung the blade in her hand. "Besides, if I'm going to help you then I have to get back into the habit of using a lightsaber. Since I don't have my own currently I'll just have to make do with this one. Don't worry, it's set on low. It'll only give you a small burn if I hit. What do you say?"

Allan turned off his lightsaber and set it on low. He lit it up again, anticipation surging through his veins. He smiled as he presented the blade towards Grace. She crossed her blade with his as she stepped sideways, then paused. Her blade snapped down with no warning as she started their match. Allan moved to block her attack.

* * *

Atton heard the hum and crackle from the storage room where he was checking the supplies and went to see what was going on. He stopped by the entrance to the garage to watch in appreciative wonder as Allan and Grace swung and clashed their blades as they fought the length of the room. Green blade defended and attacked with precision, moving carefully, conservatively, waiting for the rare opening in the red blade's movements. Red blade struck with speed and power, it's wielder moving and spinning, dancing a pattern that would ultimately drive the green blade away from it's user. Grace moved in for the finishing stroke and stopped as the green blade slid past her defenses and rested by her neck. 

Grace turned off her lightsaber as the green blade hovered. "Not bad," she remarked lightly as she lifted her hands in surrender, a satisfied smile on her face.

Allan switched off his blade as he moved it away from her neck and smiled back. "You almost had me." He slid his 'saber onto his belt.

"True, but I'm a bit rusty. If I weren't, it would have been a far shorter match." Grace turned and walked to the workbench. She put the lightsaber down and turned around to lean her elbows and back against the bench.

Atton shifted to see her better and she looked his way. He leaned against the door framing as he spoke. "You didn't take that long with Kelbourne. All that fancy footwork and everything, I mean. Not that it wasn't impressive or anything," he quirked an eyebrow in question.

"Kelbourne was sloppy with the Force. He had good form, so someone taught him well, but he was lousy at disguising his intent." Grace looked at her hands as she fiddled with a tool from the bench. Her head lifted with a smile as she glanced with appreciation at Allan. "Now, Master Berrun here knows how to give a girl a run for her money. We should do that more often."

Atton tried to keep his face neutral as he looked at Allan. _She likes you better than me… _he thought. _I've barely had her alone in a room with me. And here you are, getting the smiles and attention… _"Yeah? Well, keep it to a civil hour. I'd hate to loose my sleep because of the sound of you two trying to hit each other. It kind of echoes in here if you hadn't noticed," Atton groused. He turned and left to return to the cockpit in a sudden foul mood at the thought of them together.

* * *

Grace watched Atton leave then turned to the workbench and stared at the lightsaber resting on its scarred surface. The 'saber was blued steel, inlaid with rings of some dark wood and appeared new to her eyes, like it hadn't seen much service. _He didn't have much time to stamp his mark on his own lightsaber… _she thought. 

Allan's voice interrupted her. "You have been avoiding him. Why? I thought you two had some sort of understanding."

"What? Oh… Atton. No," she remarked as she tried to follow what Allan was saying. Grace looked up as Allan stood beside her. He looked steadily at her and she flushed. "Okay, yes. I've been avoiding him," she sighed and looked back at the bench and started rubbing at one burn-mark. "I can barely tell what he's thinking unless he shows it on his face, and that's not something I'm used to. I can sense anyone when I'm trying but with Atton all I get is pazaak. It makes me nervous, not being able to read him like everyone else." She smiled wryly and looked at Allan as she picked up the 'saber and rolled it in her hands. "When I first saw you both I told myself I should never get involved. And with him in particular. I…" Grace stopped her thought and shook her head. "I need to talk to you about something else," she changed the subject. "What do you know of Force-dreams? Dreams that aren't entirely memory or imagination."

"Such dreams are usually meant to guide one to a conclusion or a deeper understanding of the subject." Allan offered as he mirrored her posture by the bench. "Are you saying you had one recently?"

Grace stood straight and started pacing around the garage as she rolled the 'saber in her hands. "No. Not as such. More like repeatedly, as in every night. I can barely get enough sleep as it is, and this…" she stopped pacing to look at Allan again. "This memory isn't helping. Some nights it holds me. I can't wake up. It repeats. And when I do wake up I feel like I haven't slept all night. I have to resort to catnapping in the day and it's wearing me down. I don't understand what it's trying to show me." She twisted the lightsaber in her hands in frustration and looked at Allan. "I need help," she whispered.

"Tell me about this dream," Allan requested.

* * *

Time, Grace felt, slowed down when she was awake in hyperspace. All her memories seemed to drop away before they came back with avengeance while she slept. Here, in her sleep, memories and dreams paraded past with almost indecent haste. Some good, most bad. Some real, others almost a reality. She let them all flow past as best she could until she came to the one that demanded her attention whether she wanted it to or not. One memory that would replay over and over - her fight with the members of her strike team as the Jedi stood unarmed behind her. Each movement repeated with aching familiarity. Now fast, now slow. Always ending in blood and corpses. The woman watching her with brown eyes as Grace moved automatically and deadly, giving and receiving no quarter, attacking and parrying with tears running down her cheeks, knowing she was dreaming, and eventually screaming at the ghost Jedi and the Jedi's responses. _-Stop doing this!…_

_-You have to remember… _

_-Remember what?… _

_-Remember… _

_-What?…_

"Grace! You have to wake up, Grace." Gentle but firm, a voice called her out of another restless sleep. Her eyes snapped open as her senses told her there was someone nearby, too close for comfort. She struck out without hesitation but her hand was caught with familiarity and restrained as her awareness of her surroundings filtered in and Grace stopped struggling.

"How am I supposed to help you if you keep attacking me each time I have to wake you?" Allan asked as he held her now limp hand.

"Sorry," she croaked. "Force of habit." Grace sat up in her bed and pulled her knees up to rest her head against them as Allan released her hand.

"Here. Drink this." A mug was placed in her hand and she lifted it to her lips to swallow its hot contents slowly. "Do you remember anything else about the memory?" Grace shook her head, the memory fading too quickly. "Do not worry yourself unduly. Perhaps you are not meant to remember whatever it is until it is needed. Get some rest if you can. I will mediate some more on this in the morning." Allan gently patted her on the back and stood up off the edge of the bed. He gathered his outer robe around him and smiled assurance as he took the empty mug, turned and walked to the dormitory door. "Sleep," he ordered kindly as he stepped out and closed the door part way.

Grace lay back down and curled into the sheets but sleep eluded her for some time as she stared at the opposite wall.

* * *

Allan returned the mug to the kitchenette and slowly moved back to the port dormitory where he had been disturbed from his own sleep by Grace's dreams. He glanced back towards the cockpit and saw Atton standing in the shadows by the security room. He turned around and moved towards his friend. As he neared he shook his head. 

"It is getting worse. She does not say so but I can feel it. Her memories are powerful and there is definitely something important for her to remember but whatever it is eludes her grasp." Allan sighed as he stopped walking.

"Maybe if you stopped forcing her to remember every detail she would have better luck. I mean, I'm no expert but sometimes you have to let things go and just take your time." Atton remarked without his usual humor as he leaned against the corridor wall with his arms folded.

"You may be correct Atton. I thank you for your advice. We will try something different in the morning I think," Allan nodded thoughtfully then smiled. "I will bid you another goodnight then." He turned and walked back to his new bed in the port dormitory.

* * *

Atton watched Allan leave then straightened up and returned to the security room to check the monitor like he did every night. He sat watching until Grace relaxed under the sheets and slept. Then he returned to the cockpit and slumped into the pilot's seat to eventually sleep and have his own memories repeat. Since Gate-Way his dreams had began to shift. Before, they had been of the blond, blue-eyed female Jedi he had strangled - the conversation they had, his torture of her, his only thought being that he would love to kill her, and in the end his love for her as he killed her with his bare hands. Now, she would talk to him in honey-smooth tones and look at him with dark violet eyes. And eventually the dream faded to be replaced with another altered memory until he woke up and started counting cards in his head as he looked at the blue of hyperspace. 

After a while Atton looked at the chronometer. He dragged his hands through his hair as he stretched, then stood up from the pilot's seat and set off for the 'fresher. The smell of fresh brew floated tantalizing from the kitchenette when he returned so Atton grabbed a mug of caffa as he set out to walk the corridors of the ship. He moved silently in the shadows as he approached the port dormitory, expecting to see Allan and Grace in meditation or discussion as usual. Atton blinked in surprise at the sight of Allan by himself and stepped forward into the room.

Allan looked up from his seat on the floor. "I took your advice and told her to take some time off from dissecting her dream. She's probably in the garage exercising if you're interested." Allan smiled lightly as Atton scratched behind an ear and looked at his mug.

"Nah. Just wondering if you wanted a drink was all," Atton lied.

"Thank you but no, I do not think I could handle one of your caffas again. The last one I had I could not stop fidgeting for hours afterwards I was so wired," Allan laughed softly, and a crooked grin slipped over Atton's face as he shook his head and turned away. He could not help liking the Jedi even as he felt he was in a competition for Grace.

Atton headed for the garage and slowed down as he neared. He stopped in the shadows by the door and looked over at Grace as she exercised in the middle of the room. He watched her dip and sway, her feet shifting balance lightly, her arms flowing as she moved in slow motion, stretching, bending, focused on her moving meditation. He could see that she used the momentum of her invisible opponent to power her counterattacks and flowed from one form to another with the ease of familiarity. His drink grew cold as he continued to admire her and her skill.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Grace felt Atton's scrutiny from the shadows all the more because it was just the two of them while Allan meditated in the port dormitory. "You could join me if you found this so fascinating," Grace remarked as she pivoted and pushed away an imaginary foe.

Atton shifted into the garage with slow, smooth steps. "But I like watching you. I'm learning a lot about your style," he replied.

Grace stopped and turned to watch him as he walked over to the workbench and put his mug down by her discarded denim jacket. "Watching will not teach you like doing will," she said.

"Mm, True But watching can give you an edge. I've seen you practising with the lightsaber. I know you're a lot better than you're letting on. You've been letting Allan win when you spar. But as for unarmed combat? I'm curious to see how good you are."

A small thrill curled in her stomach as Atton removed his ribbed jacket and stepped near. _No need to show off,_ Grace thought as she relaxed into a defensive stance and Atton brought his hands up. He struck with a quick jab to the face that she slapped away and responded with a palm in his ribs before sliding her hand over to lock his elbow and slipping her leg behind his and throwing Atton to the ground. He struck out with a leg. Grace blocked and kicked as Atton rolled up. She then moved in close and rabbit-punched him in the kidneys. As she moved past Atton swung his elbow and connected with her jaw with a crack. Grace staggered back and clutched her jaw in obvious pain. The fight was forgotten as Atton swore and moved to check on her. Her fist lashed out and connected solidly with his nose.

"Ow, damn it!" Atton cursed as he stepped back in surprise, blood flowing from his nose. "You fight dirty!" He wiped the blood away with his sleeve.

"Yeah, well not everyone's got long arms like you to keep people at a distance," Grace grinned as she worked her jaw and stepped forward. "Honourable fighting will only get you so far." She dodged back as Atton feinted with one hand and his other hand came around to grab the front of her shirt. Her hand slid over his as she moved forward and punched him in the face again. Atton jerked his head back at the last second and, pushing her hand away, continued his manoeuvre to spin Grace around and hard into the wall where he pinned her arms and pressed firmly against her.

His breath hissed through his teeth as Atton leaned in from behind. "I never said I fought nicely either," he murmured in Grace's ear. "But I can be very nice if you want," he added as he relaxed his grip fractionally.

"So I've noticed," retorted Grace as she snaked out of his grip and pushed hard against the wall with a foot. Grace lifted her other foot, ran up the wall and flipped herself over Atton's shoulder to land behind him.

Atton spun around as Grace took several steps backwards. He grinned. "I like a woman who's flexible."

Grace rolled her eyes and returned his grin. "Comments like those won't get me blushing. I may be a bit of a prude but at least I know your type."

Atton circled looking for an opening. "And what is 'my type'?"

"The type that's not used to having a woman say no," Grace remarked lightly as she launched a sudden foot at his knee as a distraction. Atton blocked the foot only to be knocked down as Grace rolled in the air and kicked him solidly in the head with the other foot.

* * *

Atton swam slowly back to consciousness. He felt surprisingly well considering he had got hit in the head. A hand softly rested on his forehead. He cracked open an eye to see Allan looking back at him. 

"Not a view I want to remember thanks. You can take your hands off me now," Atton remarked. He sat up and scratched his hands through his hair as he looked around the garage. Grace stood by the wall, chewing on her lower lip as she watched him. Her gaze flicked to Allan as he stood up and lingered there. Atton saw the relieved look and the smile Grace gave Allan as he turned to leave.

"When you have finished here, could I speak with you Grace?" Allan requested as he gathered his robes around him.

"Of course."

Allan left the garage, leaving them alone again. Atton rolled over and got to his feet as Grace stepped to his side. She held out his jacket to him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you that hard," she offered quietly as Atton slipped the familiar weight of his jacket on. "I asked Master Berrun to have a look at you when you didn't wake up quickly."

_That explains the look and why I feel fine,_ Atton thought. "Hey, first time for everything. Right?" Atton shrugged away the apology. "No biggie. You won the fight. That's what counts."

"Not really. I cheated." Grace looked at him. "I used the Force. Call it a draw. Accept my apology please."

Atton looked back and saw the truth and sorrows in those deep violet eyes. _I have never met so deadly a woman who could look so sad yet so appealing all at once,_ he reflected as he stepped closer to her. "You won the fight because that's the way you fight." he said seriously as he slipped a finger under her chin. "Consider this your apology accepted and your prize for winning." Atton leaned in and brushed a kiss on her cheek. He dropped his hand and felt Grace shift her head slightly as he moved. He hesitated for once, letting her decide even though he had the urge to lean in again and kiss her on the mouth, and keep kissing her. Atton felt a pang of disappointment as she pulled away and moved to her jacket on the bench.

"Atton?"

"Yeah?"

"How… Can we try being just friends?" Grace asked as she put on the jacket.

"Sure. We can be 'just' friends. Doesn't mean I can't occasionally make a friendly leer at you I hope," Atton responded with a crooked grin. _Doesn't mean I won't keep an eye on you either…_ His heart thumped a beat as she smiled.

"How about we stick with beating each other at pazaak for now?" Grace remarked as she moved out of the garage and he followed.

* * *

Allan sat on the floor, his robes wrapped around him from the cool air circulating throughout the ship. He closed his eyes and breathed deep and even, relaxed. He stretched out his senses around the ship out of habit. _Atton is heading for the cockpit. Where is Grace?…_ Allan's brow furrowed as he sought out her quiet mind. His ears picked up a small scraping noise in the room and he focused his mind closer to himself. He opened his eyes. Grace sat a few feet away with an innocent expression on her face. Allan looked at her as the corner of her mouth twitched. 

"You delight in this sort of behaviour do you not? Hiding your mind away and sneaking up on me," he demanded with more calm than he felt.

"I can't help it. I'm used to keeping a low profile," Grace remarked with a smile as she fidgeted with the toe of one boot. "Who taught you the lemon face? It's quite effective. I don't think I've met anybody else who's got so much out of me with just a look and no Force."

"I taught myself, with a little help from my last Master," Allan responded. He silently regarded Grace as she looked everywhere but at him. He slipped his hands out from his sleeves and tapped a finger on the floor to catch Grace's attention. "You could have killed Atton if you had hit him any harder. How could you be so reckless like that? And don't tell me it was force of habit. That excuse is getting a little thin." A trickle of anger flowed through his words.

"What do you want to hear Master Jedi? That I did it deliberately? Or that I regretted it the instant I did it?" Grace looked him in the eye. No emotion showed in her violet depths. No emotion flowed in her voice.

Allan felt a sudden urge to draw his 'saber as she continued to look but her eyes held him. The shadows in the room darkened as he felt something brush against his mind and wait at its edge. His breath misted in the cold air. _Force! Is this what she used to be like? Is this what she still is behind that face?…_ his mind whispered as a familiar cold seeped into his bones. _Is she like I almost was?…_

Grace looked away and closed her eyes. The presence faded as light and warmth flowed into the small dormitory. "I'm not that person any more," murmured Grace as she shook her head. "I will not be that person again."

Allan stared in shock at her easy use of power. _What has she done to me?…_

Grace glared back at him, sudden heat in her eyes. "Nothing! I've done nothing to you! You're the one who decided to trust me. You're the one who forged our Bond."

"Bond?" choked Allan. _Another Force-bond? What have I done?…_

* * *

Grace was so surprised as Allan spluttered it chased away her anger. "You didn't know? I told you a Master never travels without a bodyguard, an Assassin. You are a Master. I am, was, an Assassin. When you agreed to my help at Gate-Way you forged a bond. You tied me to yourself. I tied myself to you. You accepted my oath of loyalty, even if it was in the vague terms of, and I quote, 'Get us out of here and I'll help you as best I can'. And when I told you about myself you asked me again to stay, to help you." Grace spoke with sudden anguish. "I didn't realise that's what we had done until a few seconds ago. If I had known at the start…" 

Allan leapt to his feet and stepped back, a look of dawning comprehension on his face.

"I can't leave your service," Grace stated as she looked up at Allan. "I'm bound to your service to the best of my ability and until one of us dies."

"And if I say I do not want your service?" Allan whispered hoarsely.

"Then… " Grace shrugged. "A bond of this sort is supposed to enhance both the Master and the Assassin. If it's not done properly, like we did it, there may be side effects… Like my dreams getting stronger… Like your almost blind trust of me… Like my urge to see Atton as an obstacle… Like my slip in control before…"

Allan started nodding in understanding. "If this is left as it is, then you will be a danger to all of us. Is this bond going to be lethal if it is completed?" He looked cautiously at Grace as she moved to stand up.

"Not as far as I know. If one dies then the other may feel like a part of them is missing. When two are bonded so close there can be other effects such as memory sharing, enhanced skill ability, force powers used by one affecting both…"

"Pain transference…" whispered Allan.

Grace shook her head. "No. That would be detrimental to both. There would be the knowledge the other was in pain but not actual pain. That would be an unfinished bond similar to ours." Grace paused as she looked at Allan's face. "You've had one like that before! Who? Was this the one Atton said 'shafted you royally'?"

Allan looked at Grace with haunted eyes. "Yes," he murmured. "My last teacher, Kreia. She forced the bond with me without my knowledge and I barely survived her death. I do not want another like it." Allan scrubbed his hands over his face and walked the confines of the room in silence.

"If it is the will of the Force," Allan murmured after some minutes. He stopped and spun to face Grace, a look of determination on his face. "Kneel," he commanded.

Grace shifted down to her knee with a resigned expression, her hands dropping to her sides. Allan stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him with some trepidation, knowing what he was going to make her do. _I am sorry… _she whispered in her mind.

"For all our sakes I ask you to repeat the oath as it was meant to be," Allan softly requested.

"All you need to do is ask me one more time. You have to ask me three times. The third time binds us until one of us dies," Grace whispered as she bowed her head.

Allan's hand slid off her shoulder and he stepped back. "Will you help me, binding yourself to me in my service to the best of your abilities?" he intoned quietly.

"I will not waver in my loyalty to you as my lord. My skills I offer to you freely to use as you see fit. All that I am I give in your service. My life is yours… " Grace whispered. "…My Master." She looked into Allan's eyes. Her world fell apart as the bond was completed and she sank into his eyes. Reality faded…

* * *

Awareness returned… 

Grace sat in an upholstered, curved chair in a familiar room, the floor carpeted in red, the walls were cream with red trim, the cream ceiling curving gently overhead. She knew if she turned her head she would see floor to ceiling windows with a view over a cityscape dominated by a forested park and tall steel and glass buildings. She stroked a hand down the soft leather coat she wore, checking on her lightsaber hidden in its folds and the slender knife she used for close up work sitting at her waist. A datapad rested on a small table beside her. Her eyes focused on the door across the hotel suite room as her mind passively picked up the mindthoughts of a person in the corridor waiting near the lift fifty feet away. The mind registered a spike of lust, but Grace picked up no other mind to suggest there was a second person coming out of the lift. _The Jedi has learnt to hide…_ she put away that bit of information as she stood up and walked towards the door and waited by the wall. She slipped the thin, wickedly curved knife into her hand as she focused into fading further into invisibility. Grace became the air, less than air, less than conscious thought. A small chill flowed around her hiding her heat. Her breathing slowed as she passed into silence. Her mind held no thought but became the feeling of the room - vacant but for the furniture and sunlight. The Assassin waited for her target.

A minute, two minutes passed. The door to the room opened and a woman entered, neatly dressed in a russet and ivory tailored suit, her long brown hair held back in a low ponytail. You could have mistaken her for a well paid clerk if you didn't watch the way she moved, didn't see the small nick scars on her hands as she placed the keycard on the small table and lifted the datapad to read it. The woman's head came up as the Assassin flowed slowly, silently forward, cutting off her target from the door. The woman turned and looked around the room. "I know you're here." the Jedi stated clearly as the Assassin felt a mind scan every corner and shadow. No anticipation, no excitement pulsed through the Assassin's body as she stood hidden beside the Jedi and brought the knife around in a low strike. The knife grazed the Jedi's ribs as the woman turned at the last moment and deflected the blow. The Assassin punched hard at the Jedi's unprotected face and heard the nose break. The Jedi staggered and the Assassin moved to grab her hair and slip the knife under her jaw.

Grace waited for the pain of a bolt of Force Lightning to whip through her, as she knew it had when she had got so close in reality, as it always did in her dreams. Instead, time stood still, she could not move, the knife hung millimetres away from its goal. A hand reached past her eyesight and peeled her fingers from around the knife hilt, letting it fall to the floor as Allan stepped further around to look with shock and recognition at the Jedi.

"Revan."

The memory faded… Another memory waited…

The same room, an hour later, as Grace recalled. But now the red carpet was blotted with a darker red, the cream walls carried abstract arcs of red slowing running down, three bodies lay in various poses around the room. Grace knelt before the Jedi and pleaded for her to accept Grace's oath.

"I cannot. Your oath is not mine to have. Another will have your loyalty and another will have your heart. I have seen it." The Jedi walked towards the window wall and looked out. The sound of sirens floated in from one broken window. Brown hair lifted and curled in the breeze. She turned back to Grace. "One gift I give you. Knowledge you will remember when you have truly given your oath. You will meet your destiny at Gate-Way and truly begin your journey to the light. What you do on your journey will decide how your life will end. Do not forget to listen to your heart, but choose wisely. There is a subtle difference between a fall and a sacrifice." The Jedi turned back towards the view.

Grace sensed a presence behind her and glanced up from her kneeing position. Allan stood beside her. He looked into her eyes as he moved in front of Grace. Memory faded… to become the reality of her kneeling before Allan in a small dormitory room on a ship heading towards an unknown destiny.

* * *

Grace wandered slowly through the corridors of the Ebon Hawk replaying in her mind the conversation with Allan after giving her oath, after reliving her hidden memory. 

_-You were there to kill Revan?…_

_-She went by another name… I swear I didn't know…_

_-I understand… I saw the truth in your mind… I know what you are to the depths of your soul…_

She shook her head in wonder at the Jedi's willingness to forgive her a second time and his insight into her nature that had eluded even herself.

_-The path of the Assassin was never truly your path to walk… You have always craved the Light, even as you walked in Darkness…_

_-Then what am I?…_

Grace watched the droid T3 go about his repairs on the engines, doing what he was made for. She smiled in silent joy at what Allan had said next.

_-If you will let me, I will teach you… Master and Padawan, teacher and student…_

_-The oath remains. All that I am, all my skills, my life - is yours…_

Her eyes turned to look past the main hold, towards the cockpit and its current occupant. Her step faltered.

_-Atton will not be happy with this new complication…_

_-I'll be the one to tell him…_

Grace lifted a hand to rub a finger lightly on her cheek where the scoundrel had kissed her as she moved to the short corridor by the medical bay. When she moved through the main hold she barely registered the rust-red droid standing off to one side. HK swiveled his head to follow her movement but stayed silent as she disappeared down the corridor to the cockpit.

* * *

Atton waited in the cockpit flipping through his deck of cards, occasionally looking to the door to see if Grace had followed him to his refuge. _How do you be friends with a woman? I've known plenty but I don't think I've been a friend to one… _He stared back at his cards as if they held the answer. Atton turned around in the pilot's seat for the tenth time, his dark brown hair falling over his eyes. His breath caught minutely as he saw her standing in the doorway. Then Grace moved into the small room and he gave a wide, easy smile. 

"Hey. Thought you'd forgotten about me."

She smiled quietly in return. "You're a difficult person to forget Atton." Grace rummaged in her jacket pockets and drew out her own cards to wave at the pilot. "How about a game of pazaak since you have your deck out?"

Atton flowed off the seat and perched on the floor as Grace sat down and shuffled her cards. There was a long silence as they played, occasionally interrupted by little sounds of triumph and disgust.

"So… how are things going with Allan? I mean, you two seem to have got pretty close in the past few days," Atton asked between rounds of their game. "Not that I'm insinuating anything."

"I'm sure you weren't," Grace remarked dryly as she flipped a card down to begin another round. She paused as they continued to place cards. "Actually there is something I need to tell you. I just haven't been sure how to bring it up, but since you opened the subject…"

Atton paused in the act of placing a +2 card down to take the game. "You don't have to say a word. I get it. You two have a thing going." He gathered his cards together, a scowl forming.

"I think you've got the wrong end of the stick. We're not…" Grace sighed in mild exasperation at his assumption, her cards forgotten in her hand. "We're bonded. We have a bond. As in Master and Assassin… and also Master and Padawan. Nothing more."

"Master? Padawan? You're joking right?" Atton demanded incredulously. "You're not," he stated as he looked into Grace's face, his hazel eyes flicked between hers as he tried to read everything in those violet depths.

"He's offered to teach me. I'll understand if you don't want to be my friend, not that we've managed to get very far in that respect. You don't really like Jedi after all."

"I'm surprised you'd want to be a Jedi, but if you think I'm that shallow you've got another thing coming Sister. I may not be happy with the situation but since I've been around Allan I've learnt not all Jedi are the same. Some are better than others." Atton leaned back against the side of the pilot's seat with a show of nonchalance. "As long as Allan believes in you, then I can't see why I should get in the way of what you want. I told you before I'd be your friend. This doesn't change what I said."

Grace smiled in relief. "Thank you. It does mean something to me, you know. I don't have that many friends these days."

"Hey, don't get too attached. I might start thinking you like me for more than my winning personality."

"No. I like you for your ability to play pazaak. You're also not bad in the dirty fighting stakes," Grace murmured as she looked resolutely at the cards in her hand.

"Yeah, I'm a multi-talented guy," Atton insinuated.

"I'm sorry, was that innuendo?"

"Yes. Yes it was."

"It was awful," Grace grinned as she visibly relaxed. She glanced up to see the matching grin on Atton's face. "I once knew a guy who could make a suggestion out of anything said. Actually, he was the one who taught me Pazaak years ago." She raised her head to look over at the pilot's console. "Which reminds me. How long before we reach Nexus?"

Atton rolled onto his knees and stood up to lean over and check the readout. "Not for another twenty-three hours." He turned and looked down as Grace looked away. Her eyes flicked back to see him still looking, the grin back on his face.

"What?" Grace demanded as a small flush colored her face.

"Nothing. I never said a word." Atton held up his hands in mock defense as Grace gave him the evil eye.

"Can we continue the game, please?"

"Sure." Atton sat down again. "So, this guy who taught you Pazaak. How good was he?"

* * *

Allan passed slowly into the main hold, his feet moving him automatically to the kitchenette, his mind on his recent conversation with Grace. 

_-Severed most of my ties to them when I ran… you have a place to start your search from… which is on Nexus, and a good source of information… if I make a deal with them…_

_-Who are these people you worked for?…_

_-Force Adepts, Sensitives… Dark, Light… a few Dark Jedi though. Some of them are out for profit, others for glory, and others because it amuses the hell out of them to play with others lives… In the end it's all about power… factions… not all see eye to eye on a lot of things… The amount of infighting that was going on before I left, I don't know, almost looked like someone was deliberately stirring them up, weeding out the weak and careless, getting them ready for something big…_

He pocketed some snackbars, nodded absently at HK as the droid watched him and moved towards the cockpit.

_-You don't mention Sith…_

_-Never heard that name used around these parts… what's in a name?… there's Sith'arii… rare species… Demons, pure Darkness… when I did a job years ago… haunts my dreams… presence can bring out the worst in you, make you forget… I sometimes wonder how she did it…_

_-Your progenitor?…_

_-Yeah… how she killed one… closest you'll get to Sith'arii these days is a mixed-blood, a halfbreed… you could call them Sith… at least a couple working behind the scenes that I know of… could be more… Don't know… look normal until you get right up close…_

Allan stopped to watch the Pazaak game in progress, the contestants oblivious to anything else. A silent undercurrent flowed between the two. He watched Atton who watched Grace, his eyes following her, and his game barely suffered from his inattention. Grace was aware of Atton's scrutiny but chose to ignore it, however Allan could sense she was less relaxed than she appeared. _I do not believe she has had to deal with such a blatant interest before,_ he thought in surprise. _Has she hidden away behind disguises so long she does not know her own beauty?_ He took a seat to wait out the game and nibble on a snackbar.

* * *

Hours, games, and several conversations later, Grace finally said goodnight to the two men and left the main hold where they had ended up after Allan had suggested they grab a better meal than the snackbars he had brought with him. She shrugged off her jacket as she stepped into the starboard dormitory, tugged off her boots, removed her utility belt, and crawled under the covers of her bed. A sense of peace held Grace and she relaxed her guards as her face touched the pillow. Sleep claimed her quickly and blissfully. For the first time in over three years no bad dreams disturbed her slumber. 

As Grace drifted up out of her deep sleep she felt a faint but already familiar presence nearby. Her eyes cracked slowly open to see Atton crouched down, out of arms reach, with a steaming mug in his gloved hands and a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Atton?" she mumbled sleepily. "What?"

A twitch of a smile slid over his face as he softly drifted nearer. "Hey," he murmured. "Glad to see you're not going to attack me. Thought you were considering all the other times with Allan. Didn't think you were going to wake up. You've been sleeping for eighteen hours solid."

"Mpfhh."

"Should be coming out of hyperspace in the next half hour. Thought you might like to know… but from the looks of it I'd say you'd prefer more sleep. Go back to sleep."

Grace closed her eyes and felt herself drift off again. Phantom fingers brushed along her cheek as sleep claimed her and she dreamt of what might have happened in the garage if she had given in to her impulse to return Atton's kiss.

* * *

Atton returned to the cockpit and sat in his old seat, the familiar sights and sounds surrounding him. He waited and watched the countdown on the console, playing pazaak in his mind again. After a while he closed his eyes and found his latest fantasy waiting. Atton let the sequence roll through his mind knowing the closest he would get was in his mind. A scantily clad dancer moved to the rhythm of an unheard band, her skin a dusky canvas touched here and there with thin scars that accentuated more than detracted from her appearance, her movements graceful as she danced for him… just him. A wave of lust surged throught him and he shifted uncomfortably. He opened his eyes. How he had managed to be so nonchalant when he had said her becoming a Jedi didn't change anything, he really had no idea. _Plenty of other honeys. Can't get hung up on just this one. Only going to be friends,_ Atton reasoned. His reasoning held for a short while before he returned to pick over his physical memories of her. How she fitted neatly into his arms, what her hair smelled like, the softness of her skin, her laugh. 

The memory of her voice intruded, offering opinions and observations, signs of a keen intelligence behind the merely physical that Atton was used to dealing with in most women. He wondered if she could have had more of an interest in him if she hadn't decided to retrain as a Jedi. A voice spoke in his mind, an old woman's voice, reminding him of what he was. _I don't need to be reminded of what I am! I already know. Allan gave me a chance to change. Its not too late is it? I could learn…_ Atton lost himself in his thoughts until he saw the flashing light on the console, heard the proximity alarm, and felt the hyperdrive disengage to drop the Ebon Hawk into realspace. The sublight engines kicked in and Atton had his first view of the planet Nexus.

The Hawk had come out of hyperspace behind the single moon on the dark side of the planet. Atton piloted the ship towards the cluster of spaceships waiting for permission to land and his first impression was that it was reminiscent of Coruscant because of the number and variety of ships waiting, but the planet was less built up and still showed areas of darkness where there were few lights. He took a better look at the planet as he moved into stationary orbit. Lines and multicolored webs of light shone from the planet showing highways and centers of habitation spread over land. Reflected light danced off the surrounding water. Clouds tinted pink and purple as the sun began to rise on the horizon. Blues and greens began to appear as artificial lights faded before a new day.

Atton waited. _Let's hope the codes she gave still work…_

"Unidentified ship. Transmit ID and destination."

Atton flicked the transponder on and then answered over the comm channel, his voice neutral as he rattled off the codes as if he did this almost every day. "Ship ID Ebon Hawk, light freighter, private owned. Destination is Arc-Two, Port Haldale Base. Authorization code is Sierra Nova six-two."

He waited as long seconds passed and he thought back to the conversation earlier.

_-They're codes I set up in the securitynet myself… used when I needed to be discreet… no questions asked… Port Haldale Base was originally military but hasn't been in decades… closest secure Port to where we need to go… safer than Arc-One which is the public shipping docks…_

"Acknowledged Ebon Hawk. Authorization verified and granted. Transmitting destination entry co-ordinates. Adjust course to enter. Welcome to Nexus."


End file.
